


Hands Free

by Val_Creative



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Technology, Awkward Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, Dom/sub Undertones, During Canon, Erotic Electrostimulation, F/F, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Light BDSM, Pining, Sex Toys, TARDIS Rooms, TARDIS Wardrobe Room, Thirteenth Doctor Era, Trust Kink, Yasmin Khan Loves the Thirteenth Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:28:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25399930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Yasmin finds an embarrassing item belonging to Amy Pond and has questions. Many questions.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49
Collections: Obedience and Trust Flash Exchange





	Hands Free

**Author's Note:**

  * For [planetundersiege](https://archiveofourown.org/users/planetundersiege/gifts).



> Hello hello! Please enjoy this! I had fun! I went more with "Yasmin Khan BSDMs Thirteenth Doctor" with lots of encouragement from the Thirteenth Doctor. Yasmin needs to warm a little to it. ❤︎❤︎❤︎ Let me know what you guys think!

*

Yasmin coughs, waving the puff of dust out of her face. 

It doesn't seem that the Doctor's wardrobe has seen any kind of proper cleaning. In a very long time. 

She's never seen a wardrobe like _this_ before. 

It's full of endless levels of clothes and huge, platformed mirrors. Spiraling staircases. Everything's polished like a gem and amber-coloured and warm under Yasmin's hands. Walls interconnecting like the hexagonal cogs of the Doctor's console room.

Ryan and Graham vanished downstairs, crowing on excitedly about locating a soldier's uniform from the Roman Empire. And the soldier himself, lost within the depths for who knows how long, clutching his helmet to himself and staggering. "Oi!" the Doctor shouts, running after her friends. "Don't frighten him!— _Ryan, no!_ —I don't know how he got in here, Graham!— _let me ask him!_ —"

Meanwhile, Yasmin continues to search and goes on her knees. 

She holds up a yellow tweed waistcoat and a dress shirt with red question marks, tossing them. Yasmin frowns at a coat of mismatched colours and textures. Felt of pink and green and maroon. Red tartan. Peach wool. Yellow and pink coat-lapels. So many more patterns.

As soon as she tosses it aside, Yasmin notices a plain, wooden trunk.

Unlocked.

She pops it open.

The Doctor returns, breathing heavily and hoisting herself up over a railing. 

"Goodness gracious," she mutters. "Word of advice, Yaz. You should never ever let a Roman—"

"Doctor?"

"—Is it there?" the Doctor says, beaming. She completely forgets prattling on, kneeling with Yasmin and touching her shoulder. That's the Doctor for you. "Did you find the lambent tachyonic visualiser? Or is it one of the hidden portals to Jora? I misplaced that one."

Yasmin's face burns. She sets down the item from the trunk, not wanting to hold it longer than necessary.

The Doctor hesitates, her mouth puckering together.

She reaches out — _a dildo, a real one_ , Yasmin screams internally — and turns this curiosity over. Eleven inches of dark rubbery material and the bottom is shaped like the Eiffel Tower's legs. "Right, yes. I see. I'll wager this is Amy Pond's trunk."

"Who is Amy?"

"Old friend. Gone." There's an undercurrent of affection in her voice. Yasmin watches as the Doctor softly smiles to nothing, getting lost in her own memories. "Brilliant snog—a little too _handsy_ —but she was getting married in the morning— _I told her_ —"

"That a habit for you, Doctor?" Yasmin interrupts, the corner of her mouth tilting. "Snogging married women?"

"I wouldn't say so. Often they're snogging me before I know it."

Yasmin folds her arms. "You don't like snogging?"

"Never said that," the Doctor replies matter-of-factly, letting go of the item and narrowing her eyes playfully. "Why are you so keen, Yaz?" she asks.

Yasmin scoffs lightly, grinningly at the honest observation, unfolding her arms. 

"Suppose I'm wondering why you're keeping _sex toys_ belonging to this Amy."

"This one isn't hers." A pale hand stuffs into the trunk's opening. The Doctor yanks out what looks like a pink spinning device with tongue-like appendages. Yasmin squeezes one of them. Feels squishy-soft. "An Erosan's desirable. They named these inventions by the desires and needs they invoke in their people. Very valuable now. Queen Asheya secreted her cupboard full."

"So… then this is _yours_ , Doctor?" 

It's none of her business really but Yasmin enjoys the merry little glint in the Doctor's eyes.

"You're being awfully cheeky with me, Yasmin Khan."

"Should I stop?" Yasmin whispers, peeking up through her eyelashes. The answer is the Doctor laughing quietly in amusement and rummaging again through the trunk. Yanking out more and more curiosities. Some look like weirdly phallic, and others…

"Looks like it could hurt."

"Electro powerbox," the Doctor says to Yasmin's observation. It's a small, black object connected to different coloured wires connected to adhesive white pads. Two of them. "It stimulates your body with minor electrical circuits under the skin. The pain isn't as serious as you think," she adds quickly, noticing Yasmin's flabbergasted look. "Would you like to try it?"

Yasmin immediately thinks of refusing with _not for me, cheers_ …

But…

That's not what the Doctor insinuates. She doesn't want _Yasmin_ to be hooked up to the electro powerbox… she wants…

"You sure…?"

The Doctor is already moving around and sitting down, peeling off a electrical pad's covering, reaching up under her navy blue long-sleeve until she sticks it firmly to her bare skin. "I trust you, Yaz," the Doctor announces, nodding to the powerbox.

Yasmin's cheeks heat up.

"Isn't… isn't there a beginners manual…?" she mumbles. "Do we even know this going to work…?"

Once Yasmin has the powerbox in her grasp, the Doctor clutches over Yasmin's lovely, brown fingers with encouragement. 

"Let's find out."

It's in the Doctor's nature to explore. Experiment. Take risks. She wants to know everything about the universe and she does. This what makes her happy, or so Yasmin has seen. This will make her happy. Yasmin inhales, nodding and steadying herself.

She turns the dial slightly.

The reaction is the Doctor's pale, pretty mouth widening open. Astonishment. She exhales Yasmin's inhale, like a gasp.

Yasmin startles.

"Doctor—"

_"Try it higher—"_

After a moment, Yasmin does. She's stunned to hear a low, easy giggle escape the Doctor's lips. Blimey.

The Doctor arches in, her hands planted flat to the amber-coloured ground. Her neck exposes. Yasmin wants… _wants_ to press her lips to her neck. Kiss her. She's wanted to kiss the Doctor for a long time, but the abruptness of her realisation only makes Yasmin feel feverish.

Through the Doctor's multi-coloured stripes, Yasmin can see where the pads are. Right over her nipples.

(Doesn't it _hurt?)_

(Or does it feel irresistible on a sensitive area? Thrilling?)

"Are you alright?" Yasmin says. Her fingers tighten as she knuckles the black, small powerbox.

 _"Mmh'brilliant._ " The Doctor pants, her chest heaving. Her smiling face flushed.

She removes one of the pads. To Yasmin's jaw-dropping surprise, the Doctor unbuttons her trousers and wastes no time to shove her hand in. Her mouth goes dry. Did she just put one of the electrical pads down her _pants_? Underneath? Over her clitoris?

"Higher, Yaz."

_Higher…_

Yasmin stares down numbly at the next white line of the dial. Her heart pounds deafeningly.

"Do I need to say please?" the Doctor quips, finally freeing her hand from her trousers. She shifts sideways, remaining upright.

An awkward laugh.

Yasmin shrugs, trying to not reveal what's really on her mind. Or how she feels about a beautiful and timeless creature _getting off_ in front of her. "It wouldn't hurt," Yasmin tells her, glimpsing the familiar and pleasant glint in the Doctor's hazel eyes.

_"Please…"_

It feels like an eternity before Yasmin turns it.

A high, breathy yelp leaves the Doctor's mouth but she only grins harder and trembles, her eyes shutting. Oh, oh _wow_. Yasmin wants to know what she's feeling. To touch her. To not feeling like Yasmin is going mad from this deeply voyeuristic circumstance.

That's when she hears Ryan and Graham's footsteps.

Yasmin panics, hissing out the Doctor's name and flinging the electro powerbox into her companion's lap. 

She stands, blocking the view of the Doctor.

"Do you want anything from the kitchen?" Ryan declares, giving a cheerful wave as he heads for the wardrobe's exit.

"No," Yasmin says stiffly. "No, I'm not hungry. No."

Graham nods. "I'll bring a cuppa or two up if you lot need—"

"—we're fine," she interrupts, clasping her arms behind her and flashing a toothy smile. Yasmin's facial muscles strain. She knows she's convinced no one of something unusual happening when Ryan and Graham silently raise their eyebrows.

They walk out, making eye-contact and grumbling. 

Yasmin resists the urge to smack her own forehead, plopping down. She helps the Doctor remove the electrical pads, witnessing her quiver and rest her head in Yasmin's lap. The Doctor's nose nuzzles against the seam of Yasmin's jeans.

She still has questions for the Doctor.

Yasmin's fingers touch into yellow-golden strands, basking in _her_.

But they can wait.

*


End file.
